


Spiegel Im Spiegel

by Katzedecimal



Series: Dreams [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Classical Music, Dreams, Gen, Inspired by Music, Introspection, Music, Nightmares, PTSD, compassion comes in many ways
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-07
Updated: 2012-08-07
Packaged: 2017-11-11 14:48:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/479659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katzedecimal/pseuds/Katzedecimal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John finds wisdom in his dreams.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spiegel Im Spiegel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [joudama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/joudama/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Violin Concerto I](https://archiveofourown.org/works/479210) by [joudama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/joudama/pseuds/joudama). 



> Inspired by [_Spiegel Im Spiegel_ by Arvo Part.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B8qg_0P9L6c)

_Blood on the sand.  
The screams of men and children  
Then nothing  
Nothing at all  
Blast concussion, deafness  
See the screams of men and children  
See the mouths screaming  
Can't hear anything  
Feel the vibration  
Screaming  
Screaming at the blood and sand  
Can't hear anything_

John sat bolt upright, his own ragged gasps deafeningly loud in his ears. Unfamiliar ceiling, unfamiliar room.... _Right.. Mycroft's house, higher security... gangsters watching 221b... decoy agents covering... moved Mrs. Hudson to the summer home until this is sorted._ He sagged back against the pillows and tried to catch his breath. 

He realised he was listening. Ears straining to hear, anxiety a tight knot in his belly. Was it the dream of temporary deafness or was it... Then a tsunami of relief when he heard the thin strains of the violin wafting up from below. 

He closed his eyes and concentrated on the sound. Soft and sweet, long long notes that would be taking the entire stroke of the bow, soft and soothing. Something new - playing along to a piano. No.. accompanied by a piano, playing a three-note signature over and over, stable and secure, punctuated by deep notes that anchored the lulling melody. But.... who was playing the piano?

 _Mycroft,_ he realised. Mycroft? But... those two were snapping at each other when John went to bed. What would make them suddenly decide to play a lullaby together? 

_"Obvious,"_ a voice said. He turned to see the silhouette of a man, standing with an erect back and alert stance. _"It's you."_

"I don't understand," John said, trying to see through the shifting shadows. 

_"Do you know why you were made a captain?"_ the voice asked. John drew closer to the man and saw that he wore the uniform of an army officer. _"Because of your skills in drawing people together into a team. You drew together people from different backgrounds, different temperaments, different personalities, not even language barriers stood in your way - you draw people together and unite them in purpose. It's obvious."_ Now John could make out his ID tag - Captain John H. Watson, 5th Northumberland Fusiliers. _"They heard your nightmare and their concern for you united them in purpose."_

"My nightmare," John lamented, "They heard that? I was hoping they wouldn't. They must think me so pathetic, broken..."

 _"Come now, you know that's not true,"_ a voice behind him said. John turned to see a man in the shadows, leaning casually on a stick. The scents of damp concrete and petrol stained his nostrils. _"They don't see you as broken, quite the contrary. They see you better than the army did. They see the strength that got you through Kandahar, they see the strength that sent you there in the first place. They see the lives you've saved and the lives you've taken. They see the moral heart of you and stand in awe of its light."_

"They pity me," John said bitterly, trying to see the speaker, "He saw a broken soldier and he pitied me."

 _"And you know that's not true either."_ John stepped forward and the speaker stepped forward from his bedsit, supporting himself on his cane, _"He saw a waste of a talent and he put you to good use."_

"Mycroft..."

 _"Is envious because Sherlock beat him to you,"_ a voice chuckled. John turned to see someone in a doctor's white coat, made grey in the shadows. _"Doctors diagnose, discerning symptoms, looking for patterns that will reveal what the patient is suffering. It isn't all that different."_

"I wasn't very good at that part," John admitted, feeling sheepish, "Not much diagnosis in military medicine. It's more about patching people up."

 _"Fitting pieces together, extracting what doesn't belong, making a whole."_ The figure turned from the surgery, glancing over the white-clad shoulder. There was a smell of antiseptic and perfume. 

"I'm no good at it though," John said, "When I try to do it like he does, I get it wrong. It's embarrassing." 

The figure turned and he saw the name tag pinned to the white coat - Dr. John H. Watson, M.D. _"Only when you try to do it his way. When you do it your way, you're brilliant."_

"It's only temporary."

 _"Keep telling yourself that,"_ a voice laughed. The smells of leather and coffee. _"Still think you want a life with a wife and a little picket fence? Still think you want to be normal?"_

The distant echoes of laughter and calls of 'freak!' made John see red and his eyes flashed blue. He stepped forward and saw the man was wearing a leather jacket and typing on his laptop. _"You'd be bored to tears inside of a fortnight."_

John fumed silently. He could see the man's ID tag now - "Dr. John H. Watson, M.D., Consultant" The man looked up from the body he was examining and grinned, _"We can't giggle at the crime scene."_

There was a distant sound of bees. John stared at his reflections - the captain, the soldier, the doctor, the consultant - as they came together and merged, uniting in purpose. He looked up from his tea and met his own eyes - just an ordinary bloke in an oatmeal jumper. His reflection looked back at him and grinned, _"Could be dangerous."_

**Author's Note:**

> "Spiegel im Spiegel" means "mirrors in mirrors"


End file.
